


From Darkness

by ladydragon76



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M, Warning: Disturbing Mental Images, Warning: violence, warning: character death, warning: mind-fuckery, warning: triggery content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-25
Updated: 2012-04-25
Packaged: 2017-11-04 07:21:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/391254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Starscream is a mess, the twins are responsible for him, and... Primus save them all, how's THIS going to work out?</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> **‘Verse:** G1  
>  **Series:** None  
>  **Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Pairings:** Sunstreaker/Sideswipe/Starscream  
>  **Warnings:** Abuse, Imprisonment, Torture, Sticky, Triggery Content.  
>  **Notes:** Did my best to follow the prompt, so reading that may help let you know what you’re in for. The smut never managed to get terribly explicit, but that feels right for this fic. Hope you enjoy! The tfanonkink prompt can be found [here](http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/3587.html?thread=5903363#t5903363).  
> 

Starscream kicked and screamed the whole way, but it was no use. No one came to his aid, and he couldn’t break Megatron’s hold no matter how hard he tried.

And he _really_ tried.

Pits, he’d have happily ripped off a wing to escape this time.

This was supposed to be the Decepticon’s new base. One above the surface. One where he would be able to see the sky and not have the weight of an entire ocean over his head. Instead it was his… _his_ prison!

Oh sure, the Decepticons would be stationed here as well, but it was still primarily Starscream’s prison.

He kicked, and punched, and even bit when he got a lucky chance, and still Megatron dragged him down the corridors toward the brand new, very secure brig. Starscream even knew which cell was to be his. _He_ had made suggestions on how to make the Constructicons’ design even more torturous for any captured Autobots.

 _Autobots_! Not him!

He begged, swore he’d behave, promised never to even _think_ a traitorous thought ever again, just please, please, _please_ , Mighty Megatron, not The Box!

The door was already open when they got there, and Starscream gave up whatever pride he may have had left, and clung to Megatron. It did him no good in the end.

Starscream was literally pitched into the cell, Megatron’s last words ringing in his audials. “You’ll stay here until I’ve decided you’ve _really_ learned your lesson!”

The door slamming shut threw Starscream into complete darkness. His sobs echoed and grew increasingly hysterical as he beat on what he _thought_ might be the door. Until something popped in his right wrist and blazed agony up his arm.

Reduced to distressed chirping, Starscream cradled his arm to his chest, and pressed his helm to the smooth surface in front of him.

~ | ~

At first, Starscream had tried to measure the passage of time. He should have known those precise hits from Megatron before he’d been thrown into the black served a greater purpose, but he’d been too terrified at the time to really pay attention. Without his chrono, he had no way of knowing if it’d been a day, or a vorn. He suspected it was somewhere in between. He’d definitely gotten too hungry for it to only have been a few hours between cubes appearing, and he hadn’t counted enough cubes to get him through an entire vorn.

Plus, he’d been there long enough to grow so used to the dark that even the glow of energon seemed incredibly bright.

Starscream finished the latest cube, and leaned his helm against the wall. It was so still, silent, and dark. He hummed old lullabies under his breath, and fanned his wings. He spun up his turbines, and imagined the sky around him. He was hovering, that’s why the wind didn’t drag at him. The sky was bright, and blue, and the sun was warm on his wings. The slight breeze caressed him, teased at transformation seams, brushed cool fingers over his face.

The fantasy never lasted very long, however. Starscream’s own bitter weeping shredded it, and he was left alone in the dark again with nothing but his hands as he tried to drag the dream back to life.

~ | ~

Starscream lay in warm arms, against a solid frame. Fingers moved in idle patterns on his side, soothing, comforting. He lazily shifted a wing. Pressed a knee harder forward.

Metal scraped metal, and Starscream winced, jerking back from the sudden sound. He blinked in the darkness, hand leaving his side to touch the wall.

Just the wall.

Starscream sighed softly, then shifted back to press his forehelm to the wall. He curled his arms around himself again, and tried to reform the sense of someone else touching him. It hadn’t been easy at first. It wasn’t like anyone touched him kindly very often anyway, but if he concentrated, and with practice, it was getting easier.

He drew on memory. The early days when he and his trine mates were actually _trying_ to get along. Skywarp was particularly snuggly, and would lie with his arms around Starscream, hand petting over side and wing, and sometimes straying lower to caress his hip or thigh. A suggestion for later because he was too content to try to interface with Starscream humming softly and Thundercracker purring contentedly behind him.

Starscream sank into the memory, recalling the warmth of Skywarp’s respiration on his helm. Fingers stroked smoothly along a transformation seam, and he sighed again, relaxing. Slowly, the lullaby started over, airy and soft.

~ | ~

He no longer sang to himself. It was too loud. Too much. Time passed, or maybe just didn’t? It felt like forever sometimes, and like it’d only been moments at other times.

Starscream hugged his knees close to his chest and rocked. Every few times he leaned forward further, helm touching the walls at two points, nose to the corner so that he knew his wings had room to move as he wished to fly for a while.

He was hungry. More hungry than he could recall being ever before. It would go away, then come back with a vengeance, then fade again. Or maybe he just forgot to be hungry? He’d long since shut off the HUD warnings. It made forgetting easier. Made it easier to believe that his energon would be coming soon. That he hadn’t finally been forgotten here.

His vents hitched, the sound almost explosive in the sealed blackness around him. There _was_ a world beyond this, wasn’t there? Sometimes it was hard to believe. Memories were alternately impossible to delve into, and yet so brilliantly real. Starscream never knew whether he would suffer in darkness, or smile in the light. He often couldn’t tell whether he was awake or not. At times it was too much to bear, and he would crawl around the edges of his cage, touching the wall with a hand. He would call Megatron every filthy word he could think of, curse him silently.

But maybe this was all there was? Fantasy was all he had ever had, all he had ever been. It had all been a dream. His life was this darkness.

So imagine his surprise when a sound Starscream had not made blasted his audials. Electro-blades sliced into his optics, pain that looked like impossibly bright light stabbed into his processors. Starscream flinched away violently, wings slamming into the wall behind him.

Sounds! Sounds everywhere! And the brightness!

Then _something_ was compressing his plating, crushing him. Starscream screeched, or tried to. The sound came out as little more than a rasp of static. Beneath all the pain, the brightness, the awful pressure on his sensor nodes, Starscream felt a pinch at his neck.

Then the blackness returned.

~ | ~

Optimus chewed at his lower lip while listening to his officers argue with one another. He had no solution to the situation either, and this was terribly unproductive. “What does Starscream need, Ratchet?”

The arguing stopped, all optics turning toward Prime. Ratchet scrubbed a hand over his face. “He needs… a lot.”

“Not worth it!” Ironhide snapped. “Put him down. Keep us all safe, and save whoever gets stuck with the glitch all the trouble.”

“Ironhide,” Optimus admonished. “Every spark is worth it.”

“I disagree,” Red Alert said, and held up his hand as Optimus turned wide, shocked optics to him. “Starscream is a known threat. He has killed, and betrayed, and even Megatron couldn’t control him. It would be more reasonable, safer, even a mercy to just medically extinguish his spa-“

“I am _not_ killing a patient!” Ratchet roared, jumping to his feet. “No!” he snapped as Red Alert’s mouth opened. “No! Abso-fragging-lutely not! Not even if Prime _did_ order it! Starscream wakes up and attacks me, and I have no choice but to kill him, _then_ I would, but I’m not about to shut down a helpless mech under my care when there is still a chance of recovery!”

Optimus rose, reaching out to grip Ratchet’s shoulder, his tone sincere and soft. “I would never order such a thing. Please. Sit.”

“Sir, the threat-“

“Is a real one. I know.” Optimus sat back down. “Ratchet. What exactly will Starscream need to recover?”

Ratchet snorted. “Years of intensive therapy?” He sighed, and slumped back into his chair. “Physically, I’ve repaired the damage that I could. The worst was the snapped strut in his wrist, but even that is healing well now.”

Prime nodded. He’d read the report. It had painted a horribly grim picture. Old, poorly healed scrapes and scratches, the broken strut fused, but not straight. Ratchet had replaced the entire wrist assembly as well as the radial bar in Starscream right forearm. The scrapes and scratches had been coated in medicinal nanites, but Optimus’ last sight of Starscream had still shown dull colors. He was all but lifeless, for now being kept in induced recharge for his own, and everyone else’s, safety. Optimus had been there when they’d found him. Starscream had fought so hard, vents heaving, vocalizer stressed into nothing but hoarse static, but he’d been as weak as a newborn cyberkitten. They’d had absolutely no trouble in subduing him enough for Ratchet to sedate him.

“I know what you want, Optimus,” Ratchet continued, “but I don’t know if it’s possible.”

“What will it take?” Optimus asked, helm bowing slightly as he thought of the other Decepticons. The fostering program was showing success already, and Optimus firmly believed that Starscream deserved a chance as well.

“Constant care. He’s going to need a mech that can be there with him all day and all night. Someone that will make sure he refuels, that he recharges regularly. Someone strong enough to fight him if need be, and smart enough to stay on his toes until we can _really_ see that Starscream’s on board for this whole rehabilitation thing.”

“Yeah, but me and Prime already got mechs,” Ironhide said. “And I got that whole trine behavin’ now. Be a bad time to shuffle them off ta someone else.”

Optimus shook his helm, heaving a sigh. He had an entire gestalt, well, minus Motormaster, but the other four were slowly progressing. He only recently got Breakdown to stop turning out all the lights so no one could see him and Wildrider to stop crying when it was time to recharge. Now would be a very bad time to shake them all up. “Who do we have available?”

“No one!” Red Alert huffed.

“Sunstreaker and Sideswipe,” Prowl said. All optics turned to him, and a little grin tugged at his mouth. “Hear me out. There are two of them. They are strong. They are not about to make the mistake of trusting Starscream. They can communicate without the use of comms or spoken words, and can coordinate their movements should they need to subdue Starscream. They also have experience in doing just that.”

“Jet judo,” Jazz snickered.

“Precisely,” Prowl nodded. “Of all the Autobots available to take a new Decepticon, they are the best choice for one of Starscream’s size and skill.”

“There’s a reason they don’t have a ‘Con already.” Ironhide crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back. “We didn’t think they’d make good caretakers before. What’s changed?”

“They have.”

Optimus sat forward, leaning his arms on the table. “Prowl?”

“If you will recall, my only concern before was Sunstreaker’s temper. Other than that, I have always believed in the potential the twins have. One need only look at their history to understand them.”

Red Alert shook his helm. “I never did understand your leniency with them. They often put the crew at risk. They took chances, and oh yes, let’s _not_ forget Sunstreaker’s temper. Remind us, Ratchet. How many times did you repair a minibot that happened to get in his path on a bad day?”

Ratchet shook his head. “How many times did I have to repair _any_ one that got in someone’s path on a bad day? I’m with Prowl on this.”

“No one else has a temper like Sunstreaker!” Red Alert insisted.

“Cliffjumper. Gears,” Ratchet began, but there would be no convincing Red Alert. He had a very personal issue with the twins.

“Let’s not start this,” Optimus cut in. “Prowl?”

“Sunstreaker is calmer of late. He has taken up painting again, and I have witnessed them interacting with other Decepticons. Both twins seem happier, more settled than I have seen them in all the time I have known them. I believe that if we ask, they may even accept Starscream without it needing to be an order.”

Jazz chuckled. “That’s wishful thinkin’, Prowler. They ain’t gonna do it for nothin’ but the warm fuzzies they’ll get for helpin’.”

Prowl shrugged a little. “Perhaps I have become more hopeful as well.”

“Ratchet, your thoughts?”

Ratchet’s mouth twisted to the side as he looked at Prime. “I don’t know that they’d give up all this awesome freedom they have just to babysit Starscream. And Starscream needs more than just a babysitter.” He shrugged. “Prowl’s right regarding them being the best choice out of the bunch though. Everyone else either has a Decepticon, or sure wouldn’t be able to handle Starscream. The twins have the size, and know enough about seekers in general. They’ve also picked a flat with balcony access rather high up the residential tower. Assuming Starscream can be rehabilitated, that will be good for him. Pits, just seeing the sky will be good for him.”

“Gonna be in for quite a shock,” Jazz said. “Lot ta break ta the mech.”

“I’ll speak to the twins. Ratchet, I’d like you there,” Optimus said. Ratchet dipped his helm in agreement. “We can all then discuss how best to inform Starscream of his new situation.”

“I want to go on record that this is a very bad idea, and I am very much against it,” Red Alert said.

“Noted,” Optimus said. “However, we must try.”

~ | ~

Starscream shifted, noticing the softness under him. That was unusual.

Wasn’t it?

He opened his optics to darkness, and gasped in surprise. But then why was the floor soft?

“Easy,” a deep voice said.

Starscream flinched away, but was jerked to a halt by something wrapped around his arms, legs… waist! A staticky rasp tore from his vocalizer, the pain making him flinch again.

“Be still, Starscream.” A different voice, but sharp with command. Starscream obeyed, panting, tense and afraid. “You listening to me? Nod if you understand me.”

Starscream nodded.

“The first thing you need to know is that we aren’t going to hurt you. You’re bound for safety, and you’re blindfolded because I don’t think your optics can handle the bright medbay lights yet. Understand?”

Starscream nodded again. He tried to speak, but more static came out.

“Don’t talk. Just listen. You recognize my voice?”

Starscream tried to think. The voices had been familiar, particularly the deep one. He nodded. Ratchet, the Autobot’s medic, and the deep voice could be none other than Prime.

“I repaired your wrist and the other damage I found. Some very old, incorrectly repaired wounds too. The things I can’t fix, such as your vocalizer, your optics, and your sensornet, will just need to recalibrate on their own over time,” Ratchet explained.

Starscream took the silence to nod his understanding, then Prime spoke from his other side. “Things have changed. The war is over, and we’re back on Cybertron. I know. I know,” Prime hurried to say. “It’s true, I promise. Megatron is dead. Soundwave surrendered for the Decepticons. We had a small issue with Shockwave, but he was betrayed from within, and was offlined as well.”

“And his stress levels just went off the charts,” Ratchet muttered. “We aren’t going to hurt you. In fact that’s the exact opposite of the plan.”

“Since the end of the war, Autobots have… adopted Decepticons,” Prime said. “We understand that while the former government was corrupt and in need of change, Megatron’s methods and goals were no better. We have no desire to snuff out the sparks of such a large portion of the remaining Cybertronians. Our population is low enough.”

Prime paused for a moment, and Starscream tried to relax a little. The straps holding him down hurt as he pressed into them. Prime’s voice was softer again when he continued. “We want to place you in the care of a pair of Autobots. It will be their responsibility to help you adjust to a new life of peace in the hopes that when you’re recovered, you can leave them and have a life of your own, doing something you want for the benefit of our entire race.”

Starscream bit his lip, and lay back on the berth. This sounded like Prime’s usual drivel, but how far would the Autobots go to get information out of a prisoner?

“Starscream,” Prime said, voice low, and almost… pleading in a way. “We really do want the peace to work, and I personally want every mech stable and independent. I want _you_ healed, and stable, and living on your own, but to get there you will have to accept help. Is that something you can do?”

Starscream wondered what choice he had. He wondered if this was just another dream. It was so hard to tell when he was recharging. He didn’t really think it mattered. If it was real, he would rather submit to rehabilitation and maybe finesse his way free than die like Shockwave or Megatron. If it was a dream, he’d wake up eventually.

Starscream nodded slowly.

He jerked as pressure squeezed his shoulder. “Thank you!” Prime said, sounding genuinely relieved.

“Sensornet,” Ratchet said, and Prime’s hand was instantly gone.

“My apologies.”

Starscream nodded, then lifted one hand, closing and opening his fist, tugging lightly.

“We’re going to minimize the lights, then I’ll let you up,” Ratchet told him.

A moment later Starscream felt the pressure of the straps release. He cringed at the dragging scrape as they slid away. Ratchet had said something was wrong with his sensornet. Starscream wanted that fixed _now_.

“Sit up, but be careful.”

Starscream sat up slowly, used to his gyros spinning when he did so. They didn’t, and he wasn’t left panting and shaking from the exertion either. Something of his surprise must have shown because Ratchet chuckled from just in front of him.

“I’ve been feeding energon into your systems since we found you,” Ratchet said. “You’re running as well as you can for the time being. Now close your optics. I’m going to take off the blindfold.” He did so, Starscream frowning at the tickling touch as the cloth was removed. “Keep ‘em closed, and listen to me. You may not see much. You may not see anything. Go slow, and close them again if you need to.”

Starscream nodded, and cracked open one optic only to squeeze it back shut, hands coming up to cover his face reflexively.

“Hold on. Optimus, try ten percent instead. Ok, Starscream. Try again.”

Starscream kept his hands up, and blinked his optics open. Fearful of the burning pain, he slowly pulled his hands back. Even at ten percent, the light seemed incredibly bright, but he bore it. Blinking rapidly, squinting, Starscream tried to see. He could see a brighter blob in front of him, a hint of… blue?

“You’re looking right into my optics. They the brightest thing you can see?” Ratchet asked. Starscream nodded, still blinking, trying to focus better. Resetting his optics did nothing. “Don’t do that. Don’t _try_ to see. The last time you were seen was over nine months ago. Soundwave confirmed the time, and told us what happened.”

Starscream stared at the blue of the Autobot’s optics. Nine months? Only nine months? A small croak of static sounded. They’d left him in that box for _nine_ months! Why hadn’t anyone come for him? For that matter, how had the Autobots found him?

“I know this is difficult, and none of us can begin to understand what you went through,” Prime said. Starscream faced his voice and saw the optics as a blue smudge of light. “You _are_ free now. Your caretakers live on a high floor with a balcony. When you are properly healed, you’ll be able to fly again.”

Did the fool actually think a little flight would mean _anything_ to Starscream at this point?! He shook his helm, shutting his optics against the world. He jumped as something soft stroked down his cheek.

“It’s a lot,” Ratchet said, wiping Starscream’s other cheek. Starscream opened his optics to glare. He didn’t want their fragging pity. “Don’t glare at me like that. It _is_ a lot to deal with, and we’re about to throw more at you so I can get you out of my medbay, and hopefully on the road to some sort of recovery.”

Starscream cycled his vents, huffing his irritation. At least the medic’s tone didn’t sound pitying.

“I’ll get them,” Prime said. Starscream listened as he walked away.

Ratchet sighed. “You aren’t going to like this, but there’s nothing else for it.” He spoke quietly, quickly. He must have something to say that he didn’t want Prime to hear. “You are literally in a life or death situation here. Most believe that you are far too dangerous to leave alive, and that this is a mistake. Prime believes every spark is precious. I believe that every patient under my care gets to be as close to a hundred percent before I try to blow him to the Pit on the battlefield. The war is _over_ though, so for the sake of whatever it is you hold sacred, _behave_. You aren’t going to be able to fake your way through this, and you will be utterly dependent on your caretakers until you are trusted. Got it?”

Starscream huffed again, but nodded. He was no stranger to life and death situations, and if he was anything, he was a survivor. Utterly dependent? Only until he could see and fly.

Starscream turned to face the sound of the doors whooshing open. He had trouble separating the sounds, but he knew more than two mechs were walking toward him.

“Lookin’ a bit wan there, Screamer,” a voice said. Starscream hissed at the hated nickname and the voice. Slagging Unicron on a tricycle! Not those maniac twins! What the frag was Prime thinking?!

“Sideswipe,” Prime warned.

“He _could_ use a polish.” Starscream wasn’t sure if that was Sideswipe again or Sunstreaker. They sounded alike to him.

“Want me to shove you in a box for nearly a year?” Ratchet snapped. Starscream winced at the volume. “Fraggit. Sorry,” he muttered.

“Ok. So what do we do? Guessing you agreed to be a good little boy for us then?” one of the twins asked.

Starscream glared, but nodded. Good was subjective. Good for Starscream was more or less anything that didn’t include murdering them in their recharge or blowing up the planet. He could deal with that. He could probably deal with even more so long as he could keep in mind the goal of getting free of them. They couldn’t be worse than Megatron, right?

“Sight, sound, and touch,” Ratchet said. “Keep the light levels low for him. Keep the volume down for a while too. One of you with him at all times. Make sure he’s refueling regularly, and recharging often.” There was another sigh. “And touch.” Starscream snorted, sitting up straighter and crossing his arms over his chest. “Your sensornet is never going to recalibrate without you being touched.”

“We could polish him.”

“Honestly, that might be too much. To start, just letting Starscream lie against you would be good. Let him control the pressure. Even just taking off the blindfold threw my readings into the red.” Ratchet’s optic light grew as he stepped closer to Starscream. “We need touch. We’re social beings, and seekers are almost more so. Don’t sabotage your recovery because you don’t like them.”

Slaggit! Starscream made a face, but nodded. He could see the logic, but no, he sure didn’t like the twins, or the idea of letting them touch him, _or_ that they had control over him. He would survive and escape through sheer force of will, and he’d done _far_ more distasteful things in the course of his life for a prize far less important than his immediate survival. He would manage. Somehow.

There was a moment of silence, then one of the twins spoke. “Fine. Let’s get this train wreck in the making rolling.”

Starscream silently agreed. It was definitely a train wreck in the making, and he intended to be a witness, not a casualty.

~ | ~

Starscream burned with humiliation by the time he was guided into the lift. The streets had been busy and _loud_ , and the one time he’d tried to open his optics to see, he’d had so much pain split his helm that he’d fallen down. It had _hurt_ , his entire body lighting up with buzzing pain. Bad enough his new caretakers snickered, but he could hear other laughs as well.

“Keep your optics closed for a minute,” one of the twins said as the lift doors opened.

Starscream snorted. He wasn’t making that mistake again.

He kept his hand on one shoulder as the other pulled away, and walked forward when his guide moved. He _hated_ the sense of helplessness! If this was some fragged up dream, he hoped he woke up soon.

“There’s a sofa to your left. Sit.”

Starscream sneered, but reached for the sofa, then felt his way along it to sit. Truth be told, he was beginning to feel shaky and tired. Ratchet may have been doing his level best to re-energize Starscream’s body, but that couldn’t instantly fix nine fragging months of huddling in a box atrophying from inactivity.

“Lights are down through the whole place.” The voice was closer. “Go ahead and open your optics. Ratchet says you need to use them to heal them.” Starscream hissed static, and the same voice chuckled. “He did say you can try to use your voice some, but not to overdo it.”

Starscream peeped open his optics carefully, then located the blue glow of Autobot optics. He gave the mech a glare, then dismissed him to try looking around. The lights we dim, maybe even a little more so than the medbay lights had been. He squinted against them, and tried to distinguish shapes. He caught a flash of yellow and reckoned that was Sunstreaker, which meant Sideswipe was beside him.

“Here,” Sideswipe said, and touched Starscream’s hand. “Energon. Sit here and drink that. Pits, your systems sound like you just ran a race. Me and Sunny got some things to move so they don’t break before you can see them. Stay here, ok?”

Starscream managed not to flinch from the touch, though it still felt strange. He took the energon with a nod, and occupied himself with that. He could hear them moving about, and watched the blobs and flashes of color for a while.

Nothing much happened. The twins were quiet as they moved, graceful, Starscream supposed. They didn’t seem to be hiding their movements, but they didn’t tromp around. There was a quiet clink of something glass, the occasional murmur of a voice from a different room, but no loud noises. Starscream finished his energon, noticing how very soft the sofa he sat on was.

It’d been… well, nine months since he’d touched anything but hard metal walls, and Starscream found himself petting the cushions. Then he leaned to the side, stretching as his hands slid over the plush softness. He flicked a wing out of his way, then let it rest along the back of the couch as he lay on his front. He pressed his face down, optics shutting.

This was… nice. It was hard not to luxuriate, but Starscream _was_ still aware of the twins moving around. He would just lay there a while. Sideswipe had been right about his systems running hard, and pushing too much too soon wasn’t going to help. He was surprisingly comfortable, and didn’t even notice as he drifted off.

~

Sunstreaker huffed a soft laugh as he walked back into the lounge. Starscream had curled up on his side, knees and forehelm pressed into the back cushions of the sofa and arms pulled in close to his chest. His wings were lax, hanging out over the floor and moving just a little with Starscream’s respiration.

 _Ok. That’s almost cute,_ Sideswipe said as he followed his brother in.

 _Cute my aft. I still can’t believe you let Prime con us into this._ He gestured at the recharging Decepticon. _He’s still Starscream._

Sunstreaker shook his helm, and left to get himself some energon. He didn’t like feeling _anything_ other than hate toward Starscream, but it was pretty tough not to feel bad for him. Slag. He’d been the one to open that cell when they were stripping down the Decepticons’ base. He got it, he really did. Starscream was a glitch and probably earned all the stuff Megatron threw at him, but it _was_ surprising that no one had mentioned that he was still alive and just stuck in a cell. Megatron had been dead a month. Leaving a mech to starve was just cruel. Why not kill him outright, and get it over with?

Arms circled Sunstreaker’s waist, and Sideswipe’s chin rested on his shoulder. “I know it bothers you.”

“It’s Starscream.”

 _It’s more than that,_ Sideswipe said.

Sunstreaker chose not to answer rather than waste energy on a lie that neither of them would believe. He drew a cube, and sipped at it, cycling his vents in a weary sigh. He was having a hard time reconciling instinct with vorns of war and training and mistrust.

_He’s practically helpless right now, Sunny._

Sunstreaker turned, optics narrowed at Sideswipe. “He is _still_ Starscream.”

Sideswipe shrugged. “I’m going to go talk to Skyfire. I know he’s got his hands full, but he knew Screamer way back before he was a glitched murderer. He might have some insight.”

Sunstreaker leaned back against the counter, and waved his twin off. _Yes. We’ll be fine. Go._

Sideswipe smiled at him, and leaned in for a kiss. “Go draw or something. I’ll bring home some supplies, and make us some treats later.” _And maybe if we’re nice to him, and fatten him up with all sorts of goodies, Screamer won’t be totally unpleasant._

Sunstreaker snorted, but grinned. He pushed at his brother’s shoulder as he headed for the lift, and decided he would draw. He hadn’t meant the subject to be Starscream, but shrugged it off. He had to watch the seeker anyway. Might as well put all those glances at his charge to use.

~ | ~

Starscream hadn’t expected to be resentful of his returning sight, but he sure was. Not being able to see properly had been how he’d known he was awake. Now he couldn’t tell as easily because he was _dreaming_ of the twins and dim lighting! He was dreaming of having full tanks, and being able to occasionally whisper a few words and hear everyday sounds without wincing in pain.

The only way he had left to tell if he was dreaming or not was if, and how, they touched him.

And now Starscream had Ratchet complaining as he flinched from a touch to his forearm. “Ok. That’s it. I’m changing the care orders.”

“Isn’t it kinda wrong to touch him if he doesn’t want us to?” Sideswipe asked from his seat at the other end of the sofa.

Ratchet glared at him, then back at Starscream. “Your sight’s improving. Your audials are nearly reset. You’ve even got some vocalizer use back. But you’ve gotten even _more_ sensitive to touch! How the frack hard is it to touch someone? Watch!”

Starscream rolled his optics, but dutifully watched as Ratchet stood, then plopped his aft into Sideswipe’s lap. He snickered silently at Sideswipe’s expression, then shook his head. No slagging way was he sitting in the Autobot’s lap. He was bigger, and he had no intention of trying to curl up like an oversized, needy sparkling.

“Wow,” Sunstreaker said from the doorway. “What did I miss?”

“Uh… Ratchet says we have to touch Starscream.” Sideswipe didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. “Um… You can get up now.”

“Screamer’s not sitting on my lap,” Sunstreaker said, and Starscream hissed at him for the mangling of his name again.

Ratchet sighed, and stood. “That isn’t necessary. What _is_ , is that he _touch_ , and _be_ touched! So the new orders are, that if one of you are sitting still, you’re sitting still with a seeker touching you. Got it?”

Sideswipe patted the sofa beside his leg. “Wanna cuddle?” Starscream hissed at him too. Sideswipe made a ‘see’ gesture, giving Ratchet wide optics.

“Fine!” Ratchet headed for the door, tossing over his shoulder, “Don’t get better. Stay their pet seeker for the rest of your life if that’s what you want. I’ll be back next week.”

Starscream flinched at the words, and when Sideswipe did reach a hand out toward him, he launched to his feet. Static burst from his vocalizer as he cursed.

“You’re not our pet,” Sunstreaker said, his voice oddly soft. It made Starscream stop pacing, and really look at him. “Ratchet gets tense when he can’t fix something. He can’t fix you, and you aren’t fixing yourself.”

“Sunny,” Sideswipe said. His voice held a note of warning.

“What? It’s true,” Sunstreaker said.

“He’s got his sight, his hearing, he’s working on his voice.” Sideswipe shrugged, and Starscream frowned. For not being a pet, he sure was being spoken about like he wasn’t there. He huffed just to remind them. “You are,” Sideswipe insisted, looking at Starscream. “It’s a fraggin’ lot! Holy slag, you were locked in a box for a damn long time. Longer than you’ve been out!” He turned back to his twin. “Let him go at his own pace.”

Sunstreaker threw his hands up, and stomped out of the room. Starscream watched him go, feeling… something. Guilty? Maybe a bit hurt?

“Starscream?” Sideswipe called gently. “Let’s just try this, ok?”

Starscream bit his lip as he took in the open, obviously inviting position Sideswipe sat in. They had it wrong. He wasn’t avoiding touch because he didn’t want it. He was avoiding it because he did. Then what happened when he was finally free? When he was _alone_ again?

“Star,” Sideswipe said softly, and stood. He crossed the room at an even pace, and carefully took Starscream’s hand.

It was the name that undid him. He was fairly certain of that.

Starscream’s vents caught as he fought the overwhelming tide of emotions, and leaned in until he could hide his face on Sideswipe’s shoulder. He clutched Sideswipe’s arm with his free hand, half to keep Sideswipe from touching back, and half because he wanted to pull that arm around him. Then they just stood there. Sideswipe didn’t move, or say anything. He didn’t complain as Starscream squeezed his fingers.

“Tired,” Starscream finally managed to whisper, a wealth of meaning in that one word.

“Yeah. Come on.” Sideswipe waited until Starscream lifted his helm and released his arm, then tugged him along by his hand to the room he’d been given to be his own space. “Let’s try something else, ok? Lay down.”

Starscream obeyed, glancing at their hands as he climbed onto the plush berth padding. Sideswipe held on gently, then climbed onto the berth as well. He didn’t touch Starscream in any way other than that gentle hold on his hand. Starscream relaxed by degrees.

This was absolutely going to mess with his dreams and ability to tell reality from the inside of his own processors, but it felt so nice. He chewed at his lip, staring at their hands, and slowly drifted off.

~ | ~

Sideswipe could feel the anger rolling off his twin before he even got close to home. _Sunny!_ Slaggit! It was getting to where he couldn’t go to the damn market place without those two getting into it!

Sideswipe bounced in the lift, willing it to go faster. Starscream raspy voice greeted him first thing, the words indistinguishable as Sunstreaker shouted over him.

“I didn’t ask for this! I didn’t _want_ this! Or you! You think I _want_ to deal with you? You think I like having to keep the lights low? I’m a fragging artist! I _need_ light to work!”

Sideswipe shook off his shock, and jumped between the two volatile mechs. “Sunny!”

“I didn’t ask for this either, _Autobot_!”

“Star!” Sideswipe snapped, knowing that for some reason, that nickname had a wholly different effect on Starscream than anything else they could call him. “Sunny,” he said softer, hands on his twin’s shoulders. “Walk away.”

“I am tired of-“

“Walk!” Sideswipe hated raising his voice at his brother, but it usually surprised Sunstreaker enough to make him listen. “Just go walk it off.”

 _Fucking sick of this!_ The human word seemed to carry more weight. _He’s not even trying!_ Sunstreaker stormed out, and Sideswipe winced as the bond slammed shut with the closing of the lift doors.

Sideswipe sighed, and turned to look at Starscream. He felt his spark constrict, and moved to kneel in front of the huddled seeker. //Ratchet? I need your help,// he sent over the medic’s private comm channel, and attached an image capture of Starscream.

Starscream remained where he was, back pressed to the wall, wings drawn low, knees up with his face buried and arms wrapped around them. He wouldn’t respond to Sideswipe, not even when he gently laid his hand on the dark helm. “He’s impatient. Angry sometimes. He really didn’t mean it. He’s just frustrated that he can’t help you. I know it doesn’t seem that way. And I’m not saying he’s not fragged off. It’s just… Hard, I guess.”

It was a little while before Ratchet replied that he was on his way, and Sideswipe decided to just keep on talking.

“You’ve been here what? Like over three months now? You’re getting better. I’ll talk to him when he gets back. Ratchet’s gonna come by. Maybe he can help us all. I mean, I hate to push you, and it’s not like anyone expected you to just blink, and be all better. Pits, not a single one of the other ‘Cons have moved out on their own yet, so it’s not like you’re the only mech still trying to heal. But I can get why Sunny’s frustrated. I don’t think you know how hard it is to see you like this.”

Sideswipe paused as Starscream shifted a little. Sideswipe reached out and took his hand. “It is, ya know? Hard to see you like this. I mean, sure, you can call us soft-sparked and all, but Sunny and I didn’t have the greatest start in life. I guess so long as we were all fighting and that was where our focus was, it was easier not to see the suffering?” He shrugged even though Starscream wasn’t looking.

“Now, we’ve got some pretty awful suffering right in our faces. That’s not your fault,” Sideswipe hurried to say. “You can’t help what that bastard did to you, and it’s not like you can help our reaction to it. I don’t think when we agreed to do this that we quite knew what we were in for. I wouldn’t change my mind though. And for as angry as Sunny gets, he wouldn’t change his either.”

Starscream’s helm tipped, one liquid optic, and wet cheek coming into view. Sideswipe gave him a strained little smile, and continued. “Pits, he might even be picking fights with you just so you’ll fight back.” He chuckled a little. “That’s my Sunflower, after all. All the subtlety of a bomb going off.”

“How?” Starscream rasped, lifting his helm to look at Sideswipe properly. “How did the Autobots find me? How did you know where to look?”

Sideswipe sincerely hoped he was mistaking that light in Starscream’s optics for hope, and answered, “We were clearing the Decepticon bases. Stripping them for anything useful before we left Earth to come home. It was Sunstreaker that found you.”

Starscream’s optics flooded, and his helm dropped back to his knees. Sideswipe’s spark pulsed pain as he listened to the poorly stifled sobs. //Get him to talk,// Ratchet said, startling Sideswipe. He was just outside of the lift doors, and staying back out of Starscream’s line of sight.

“Hey,” Sideswipe said softly, scooting just a little closer. “Easy now.” He hadn’t been expecting Starscream’s rather violent response, and blinked back stupidly from his aft.

“I don’t want your pity! I don’t want anyone’s pity! You- You have _no_ idea-“ Starscream’s vocalizer cut off on a staticky sob, and he curled in again.

“It’s not pity,” Sideswipe said, crawling back. “And I know I have no idea, but Sunny kinda does.” He saw from the corner of his optic as Ratchet’s optics went wide, but ignored him for the time being. “I mean, it’s not like he was locked up for as long as you, and he had me, but there’s a reason he… Look, it’s not pity, ok? Now spit it out. What’s so upsetting about learning that we cleared the Decepticons’ bases? Did we forget something important? Were there other prisoners?”

Holy fragging Primus, _please_ don’t let there have been other prisoners, they’d be dead for sure by now.

Starscream shook his helm, then looked up. “They didn’t argue. They didn’t stop him. They didn’t even try to get me out of there! Skywarp at least could have- What? What?!”

Sideswipe bit his lip and shook his helm. Damnit, but he hadn’t been expecting that, and he hadn’t hidden his wince at Skywarp’s name. “I don’t… Uh…”

//Tell him. I’ll sedate him if I have to, but you may as well tell him at this point.//

“So… There was this battle. We, uh… the Autobots collectively, hadn’t even really noticed that you were missing yet. I mean, sure me and Sunny knew we didn’t have you there to jump on, but like, you hadn’t been gone so long yet that we were all going, ‘Gee, where’s Screamer?’.” He held a hand up to stop the complaints about the nickname.

“Things weren’t going good for the Decepticons. Megs got really mad. He was yelling at Thundercracker. Like, stopped the fragging battle to yell at Thundercracker for something. Fusion cannon came up.” Sideswipe shook his head, and unable to hold Starscream’s gaze, looked down to take the seeker’s hand again. “He fired. Skywarp showed up suddenly, right in the way. Megatron must’ve had it on full power, because the blast punched right through him. There was nothing Ratchet could do for him, but we grabbed Thundercracker when Megatron called the retreat and took off.”

“Skywarp’s… dead?”

Sideswipe nodded, looking up. “I’m sorry. We probably should have told you before-“ He cut off as Starscream shook his helm, then broke down. Sideswipe gave Ratchet a helpless look, then turned back to lightly pet Starscream’s arm.

“Thundercracker?”

Ratchet stepped forward. “He wasn’t badly damaged. Physically, but-“

“They were bonded,” Starscream whispered, interrupting, optics locking on Sideswipe’s. Sideswipe nodded again, only too able to stick himself in Thundercracker’s place. “Where is he? _How_ is he?”

“With Skyfire,” Sideswipe answered, then hurried to continue as Starscream’s optics shot wide. “He takes good care of him. Thundercracker’s… uh…”

“Childlike,” Ratchet supplied, and sat on the floor a few paces away from Sideswipe and Starscream.

“I want to see him!”

“I’ll have to talk to Skyfire about that,” Sideswipe said. “That’s not a no, but I can’t just say ‘yes, let’s go’. Thundercracker has been slowly coming around lately. I talk to Skyfire now and then. Last time I was over there, Thundercracker was actually playing with a toy instead of staring at a wall.”

“Physically, he’s in very good condition,” Ratchet said. “He’s just...”

Starscream shook his helm, and slowly lowered it back to his knees. He clung to Sideswipe’s hands. “I’m sorry, Star,” Sideswipe said.

“I want to see him,” Starscream repeated.

“I don’t think you’re ready,” Ratchet said.

Starscream looked up with a desolated expression. “We _tried_ ,” he said. “In the beginning, we really did try. They came to hate me.” He whimpered. “I learned to hate them.”

Sideswipe blinked, suddenly getting it. “They didn’t abandon you though. They didn’t just leave you there in that box. Skywarp didn’t live long enough. We know from Soundwave now that you’d only been stuck there for a couple weeks when Skywarp was killed. Then Thundercracker just _couldn’t_ help. He barely moved until real recently.”

A breath shuddered out of Starscream, and he looked at Ratchet. “What do I have to do?”

Ratchet’s helm tipped, optics dropping to Sideswipe and Starscream’s joined hands. “More of that.”

“Ratch-“

“Fine,” Starscream said.

Sideswipe was knocked back to his aft with an armload of seeker. He grasped at Starscream’s shoulders in pure reflex, then chuckled as arms banded around his middle. “I hate to dim your enthusiasm here, but it’s gonna have to be cool with Skyfire before I take you to see Thundercracker. No matter how good you end up doing, he might not be ready.”

“Fine,” Starscream repeated, voice muffled by Sideswipe’s neck.

Ratchet grinned, and reached out to stroke Starscream’s wing. He jumped, wing twitching away before he very deliberately pushed it back into Ratchet’s hand. Sideswipe watched as Ratchet’s hand pulled out along the top edge, then stood. “It’s still going to take time, Starscream.”

Starscream lifted his head. “That waxing?”

“We’ll wax you if you want,” Sideswipe said.

“Everyday, all day.”

Ratchet laughed. “Might as well let them interface you if you’re in that big a hurry.”

“Would that work?”

Sideswipe and Ratchet both blinked, and Sunstreaker proved he’d been paying attention by asking, _Is he fragging serious?_ over the bond.

Ratchet’s mouth worked silently for a moment. “Uh… it would, but-“

“Interface with me then,” Starscream said, turning to Sideswipe.

“Let’s wait ‘til Sunny gets home, and then we can talk about it, ok?” Sideswipe shifted, settling his arms around Starscream’s shoulders. “Maybe we should move a little slower than just diving into interfacing?” _I think he is. Where are you? Can you bring home some of that polish you like?_

_Already there. I’m going to do him a sketch in trade, then I’ll be home._

“Sunny’s going to bring home some wax,” Sideswipe announced. “We’ll start there for today?”

Starscream slumped, but nodded, and Ratchet grinned. “Don’t force it, all right? I mean _do_ something, but don’t jump to the opposite end of the scale in one night.” Sideswipe nodded, figuring it was going to be up to him and Sunstreaker to now limit Starscream carefully instead of being frustratingly stymied by the seeker’s unwillingness to touch them.

Ratchet gave them a wave and saw himself out. //Don’t hesitate to comm me again if something happens. I’ll come at whatever time.//

//Thanks, Ratch.// Sideswipe kept his hands still on Starscream, feeling him trembling, and not wanting to make him hurt. “You’ll be ok. We’ll get you there, I promise.”

“For what purpose?”

Sideswipe blinked at the suddenly sorrowful tone. “How do ya mean?”

“Get me ‘there’, free, independent for what purpose? My trine mate is dead. His bondmate barely sane, playing with sparkling toys. What do I have? Hatred and mistrust and nothing!”

Sideswipe frowned at the bitterness, but couldn’t help but notice that Starscream wasn’t pulling away from him. “You’ll be free. You’ll be your own mech, and able to choose whatever you want to do. You used to be all into science, right?” Starscream didn’t answer, but Sideswipe knew it from Skyfire. “Would you want to do that again? Would you want to explore again? The possibilities are kinda endless now. I mean Sunny’s back to doing art. I’ve been playing with energon and metals and stuff. Pits, you’re one of my guinea pigs! If you and Sunny don’t like what I make, I don’t bother trying to trade it to others for their skills.”

Starscream heaved a sigh.

“You don’t even have to decide now, ya know? Let’s just get you feeling better, ok?”

Starscream nodded, then squirmed around to get more comfortable, ventilation hissing as his sensornet flared. Sideswipe twisted so he could lean back against the wall. Soon enough Starscream’s respiration settled and deepened, and Sideswipe grinned, waiting for his brother to get home so they could move the seeker to his berth.

~ | ~

For as determined as he was at first, Starscream couldn’t bring himself to tolerate too much touching. He _wanted_ to be touched, and he didn’t even bother to deny to himself that Sideswipe was pretty nice to snuggle up against. Sunstreaker wasn’t bad either, but he took longer to relax when Starscream curled up beside him and rested his helm on his shoulder.

It took a few times of it happening too before Sideswipe snickered and told him that Sunstreaker wasn’t used to anyone watching him work. Clarifying that he wasn’t watching, just resting with his optics closed helped, but that had made him curious, so he began peeking now and then. Sunstreaker really was pretty good.

Within a week they graduated to sharing a berth for recharge. It was chaste and about as innocent as the three of them were capable of being. Starscream knew that some nights the twins left him for a while, but they always came back. He wasn’t under any illusions. They were spark twins and had been bondmates since the moment they unfurled. Maybe longer.

That didn’t stop him from feeling jealous or left out. Which only irritated him more. They tried to bathe him, thinking that maybe a little mutual grooming would be nice, but the cleanser pattering against his plating made his sensor nodes buzz in an entirely unpleasant way. They tried to help him dry off, but Starscream ended up gasping and flinching from even his own touch.

For weeks, they tried. Starscream shrieked his vocalizer into glitching and spent three days without a voice. Sunstreaker threw a jar of fuchsia paint across the room in a fit of frustration of his own. Starscream spent an entire night locked in his room sobbing into the corner. Sideswipe left for a full day, refusing to answer even Sunstreaker’s frantic shouts for him over the bond.

Then, one afternoon, Sideswipe came home from doing whatever the frag it was he did when he went out, and flopped down onto the sofa beside Starscream. Starscream grunted, startled out of his half-sleep. Sunstreaker cursed because Starscream’s twitch knocked his arm, and the datapad moved under the stylus. Starscream raised an optic ridge at the blue gash across the screen.

Then the other optic ridge popped up. He squirmed, earning another curse from Sunstreaker, and a curious look from Sideswipe.

“That didn’t hurt.” Starscream shifted, and Sunstreaker huffed, the datapad clattering as he tossed it onto the side table.

“What?” Sideswipe asked.

Starscream smiled, and pressed closer to Sideswipe. “You landed on me, and it didn’t _hurt_.”

Sideswipe grinned too, and ran a hand down Starscream’s thigh. There was still a tingling that had nothing to do with arousal, but it wasn’t pain, and it didn’t _buzz_. Starscream popped up to his feet, Sunstreaker biting out another vile word as a wing smacked his helm. “That… wasn’t comfortable,” Starscream said, but snickered. “It didn’t _hurt_ though!”

“Wait!” Sideswipe laughed. “Where are you going?”

Starscream didn’t answer, and rushed into the washracks. He was braced for discomfort as the cleanser hit his plating, but it really _wasn’t_ all that bad. It almost tickled, in a semi-annoying way. Sideswipe was laughing, and Starscream glanced back with a genuinely happy smile.

“Progress!” Sideswipe turned and wrapped his arms around Sunstreaker’s neck, bouncing.

Starscream caught Sunstreaker’s slight smile, then turned his face up into the cleanser. Idiocy. Absolute idiocy to be so excited that he could shower.

He couldn’t stop smiling.

Drying was still almost too much, but a twin each took Starscream’s hands and polished them and part of the way up his arms before he had to stop them. The day was celebrated with a round of high grade Sideswipe was experimenting with, and capped off with them both staying next to him all night.

It only took Starscream a couple minutes to believe that it was all real when he woke in the very early hours of the morning. He wasn’t even all that afraid to fall back into recharge.

~ | ~

Skyfire looked nervous. “I’ve been telling him for days that you were coming. He hasn’t really acknowledged me, but that’s sort of how it goes. Please, just… be gentle with him, and if I say it’s time to go, you go. No arguing. No stalling. The last time he saw a seeker, it-“ Skyfire’s wings trembled at the tips. “It took me days to calm him. And I really do mean _days_.”

Starscream nodded. “I understand.”

Skyfire glanced at the twins, then nodded, and gestured them to follow. Skyfire had a balcony as well, but it was glassed in. Something of a sunroom now that Cybertron was orbiting the Earth’s sun. Starscream simply watched Thundercracker for a moment. He was sitting on the floor, intent with some small puzzle toy.

Starscream glanced back at his caretakers, Sideswipe giving him an encouraging smile. Starscream cycled his vents, then went out to greet his old wingmate.

“Thundercracker,” he said, then bit his lip. What was he doing? He wasn’t the wing leader or Air Commander anymore. He was the equivalent of an adopted youngling.

Starscream stepped closer, and sat on the floor next to Thundercracker. “Hi, TC.” There was no response, so Starscream scooted a little closer. “What’s that you have?” He took in the lights, and how Thundercracker twisted the object’s tiers. “I used to have a puzzle ball like that. I drove myself insane with it until I figured out the trick. Do you want to know what the trick is?”

Thundercracker didn’t even glance from the corner of his optic, and Starscream hesitated.

“I’ve missed you,” he said softly. He might have imagined it, but Starscream thought he saw Thundercracker’s fingers still for a just an instant. “I know we didn’t really get along. I know we all really hated each other sometimes, but we were trine, and you and Warp were the best I’ve ever flown with.”

Starscream didn’t imagine the pause that time. “They told me. The twins. They’re my caretakers. They told me what happened to him.” Thundercracker’s fingers tightened on the puzzle ball, and Starscream cycled his vents, trying to blink away the burn in his optics. “He loved you,” he whispered. “I think I was really jealous of that. That you two fell so hard for each other, but left me out. I didn’t make it easy though, did I?”

Starscream brushed at his face. “It’s still hard to believe. Warp was so… alive about everything.” Thundercracker wasn’t bothering with the puzzle anymore, his hands still. Starscream’s exhalation shuddered out. “I know you’d both have eventually come for me if you’d had the chance. Despite it all. Right?”

From the corner of his optic, Starscream saw Skyfire half-rise, and Sunstreaker reach out to stop him. He stopped talking as Thundercracker slowly looked at him.

“We were planning to.” Thundercracker’s voice was soft from disuse, laced with static. The puzzle dropped to the floor, Thundercracker’s face crumpled, and Starscream was suddenly flattened to his back, his wingmate weeping inconsolably into his neck.

Starscream wrapped his arms around Thundercracker’s shoulders, and shifted only enough so his wing hinge didn’t pinch so. He didn’t bother to watch how long they lay there like that, but the sky was turning colors, and he’d taken up petting Thundercracker’s wings. Thundercracker sighed, and shifted to the side, cuddling against Starscream instead of just lying on him and clinging.

“Sorry,” Thundercracker whispered.

“Been hanging on to that a while, have you?” Starscream asked.

Thundercracker shrugged. “Easier to just play the memories over and over.”

“Think this is what he’d want for you? Sitting on a walled off balcony, playing with sparkling toys?”

“He’d laugh at me.” Thundercracker leaned up and gave Starscream an earnest look. “We were going to get you out. I was supposed to cause a distraction so Megatron wouldn’t see Warp stealing energon right there before it could be counted. We were just going to wait until that night, and then run.” Tears slipped down his cheeks. “He shouldn’t have done that. I couldn’t get you out alone. He could have.”

Starscream shook his head, and reached up to wipe away the tears. “He’d never have just let you die.”

“I’m sorry, Star. I just couldn’t deal, and then when I realized how much time had passed, I thought you were dead too. Then one day I heard Sideswipe saying he and Sunstreaker had you.”

Starscream grinned. “You started to wake up a little then? They mentioned something about that. We didn’t connect the two though.” He sat up, dragging Thundercracker with him. “You can’t keep doing this.”

“He took a part of my spark with him. I don’t think-“

“Shut up, you romantic idiot.” The words carried no heat, and Starscream grinned to further take the sting out. “He took a piece of you with him, but you kept a piece of him. I know how bonds work.”

Thundercracker blinked.

“You _trade_ a portion of your spark. That’s why bondmates can speak through their connection.” Starscream rolled his optics. “Primus, how long were the two of you bonded, and you hadn’t figured that out?”

Shaking his helm, Thundercracker pulled away a little. “How did you get out?”

Starscream allowed the topic change, though he was no more interested in discussing it than Thundercracker was to continue talking about Skywarp. “About a month after the surrender the Autobots were scavenging anything useful from our bases. Sunstreaker opened the door, Ratchet fixed me up.” He shrugged as though it was no big deal. “Been living with the twins recalibrating all my systems since then.”

“Recalibrating?”

Starscream smirked. “You’d have loved it. I couldn’t speak for weeks. My voice was worse than yours is now.”

Thundercracker tried to smile, then leaned over to lay his helm on Starscream’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Star. We shouldn’t have waited.”

“No. You had a solid plan. Gather energon, then make good an escape.”

“Warp wanted to go sooner. I’m the one-“

“Stop it! I’m fine.” Starscream twisted, and knelt, gripping Thundercracker’s shoulders. “See?” He flung his arms wide. “I’m fine. You’re the one playing with puzzle balls and drooling on himself.”

Thundercracker’s optics widened. “I never drooled on myself!”

Starscream grinned, then laughed when Thundercracker shoved his shoulder. “There. That’s better.”

Thundercracker almost instantly shrunk back in on himself. “It still hurts.”

“It still hurts me,” Starscream said. He glanced in at the twins and Skyfire. “Sideswipe keeps telling me that no one else has left to live on their own yet. He says it’s not a race, and that I should use this time to heal as good as I can.”

“How do I heal from this?”

Starscream shook his helm. “Asking the wrong mech. I’m still trying to figure out how to heal myself.”

“Thought you said you were fine?” Thundercracker asked, optics narrowing.

Starscream grinned and shrugged. “I am. Just not really healed yet. Ratchet told me interfacing might help, but I don’t think they’ve earned the right to touch me like that yet,” he said, tipping his helm toward their watching and listening caretakers.

Thundercracker’s optics went wide, and he looked in at the twins, then back to Starscream. “You know,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “Warp and I joked about reversing that damn jet judo on them.”

“Joked?”

A there and gone again smile flitted across Thundercracker’s face. “We had no serious plans. Mostly weren’t sure we’d survive intact enough to make it worth it.”

Starscream tipped his helm. “Is that… advice or permission…?”

Another flicker of a smile. “It’s a plea for details if you ever do.”

Starscream stared for a moment, then burst out laughing. “I promise.”

They were brought energon by their very watchful guardians as the sky darkened, and then left to entertain themselves. Starscream felt distinctly like they were sparklings. He didn’t waste the effort trying to care, and instead taught Thundercracker the trick to beating the puzzle ball. It was much later when Sunstreaker leaned against the doorway.

“We need to go home.”

Starscream glanced at Thundercracker, then nodded. He wasn’t going to, but Thundercracker grabbed him into a tight hug. “I’ll come back. I’ll be an utter brat to convince them if I have to, but I’ll come back.”

“You’re already a brat,” Sunstreaker said, beating Thundercracker to the punch.

Thundercracker tipped his helm. “What he said. Besides. I don’t know that I could recharge thinking you were instigating more beatings.”

Starscream’s head pulled back in surprise. “They don’t hit me.” He turned narrowed optics on Skyfire.

“He doesn’t hit me either, Star. I just… Well, I mean, it’s the twins.” Thundercracker shrugged, heat coloring his pale face.

Starscream shook his helm, then leaned in to kiss his wing mate’s cheek. “I’ll see you soon. Don’t drift away again, all right?” Thundercracker nodded, and Starscream stood. He followed Sunstreaker in, letting Sideswipe take his hand when he got close enough.

“That was amazing,” Sideswipe said in the lift. “We were braced for everything, but not _that_! I can’t believe you got him to come around.”

“He misses Skywarp. He feels guilty about what happened to me.”

“What about you?” Sunstreaker asked. “How- Uh oh.”

Starscream shook his helm, and wiped at his face. He tried to smile. “It’s a lot. Right?”

Sideswipe nodded, mouth quirking into a sad smile. “Think this qualifies as a genuine shit ton.”

Starscream let them lead him off the lift into their foyer, then stopped. “Interface with me?”

“Not tonight,” Sunstreaker said, and Starscream recoiled. “Too raw tonight. I have a better idea.” He took Starscream’s wrist, and pulled him to the wash room.

Sideswipe stroked a wing. “Give you something to tease Thundercracker with first.”

Starscream was getting used to having to admit, at least to himself, that the twins were more often right than wrong. He was too raw, and proved it by sobbing brokenly as they washed him, then by crying silently as he was carefully waxed.

“It’s a whole lot,” Sideswipe murmured, kissing Starscream’s helm. “And you’re handling it pretty fragging well. You didn’t break in front of Thundercracker.”

“Breaking, _broken_ now.”

“Yeah, but this is your safe space,” Sunstreaker said, working slow circles of polish along Starscream’s back.

Sideswipe smiled, purposely using Thundercracker’s words. “What he said.”

Starscream tried to relax as they buffed his plating to a rather nice shine. It wasn’t difficult once they got to his wings. He sighed, and few more ridiculous tears escaping as he realized it actually, _finally_ , felt nice to be touched again.

Then it honestly began to feel a bit more than nice as they had him lay on his back and began working over his front side. They _had_ to know what they were doing. Starscream knew he was over-warm, and his vents were cycling louder. He shut his optics, and tried to ignore the reaction until soft lips brushed over his own.

“Go with it, if it’s what you want,” Sideswipe said. “Honestly can’t think of the last time a full body wax didn’t overload me.”

“But Sunstreaker said-“

“That we weren’t going to interface you,” Sunstreaker cut in. “Not interested in taking advantage of your vulnerability. Doesn’t mean we can’t make you feel better.” He paused, and looked at Starscream in the optics. “We can stop if you’d rather?”

Starscream’s optics went wide. “Don’t you _dare_!”

Sideswipe chuckled. “Then close your optics and relax into it. We’ll take care of you.”

Starscream sighed, and consciously relaxed his body. The twins went back to work. They finished his torso, then worked their way down the outside of his legs. He was moaning uninhibitedly by the time they finished with his heel thrusters, and pleading by the time they reached his inner thighs. They never once hurried or skipped over a spot.

In perfect unison, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker stroked up to his thigh-pelvic joint, fingers delving in, then pushing over his interface panel. Starscream’s back bowed, mouth opening in a silent cry. He shook, the overload driving tingling ecstasy throughout his entire frame. He dropped down, panting, spots dancing in front of his optics. It took a moment for him to realize they were closed, and he opened them to look for the twins.

Sideswipe was smiling, and bent over him to kiss Starscream’s cheek. “Beautiful. Feel ok?”

Starscream glanced at Sunstreaker, who gave him a playful wink, then nodded. “Very ok.”

“Pop your panel so I can clean you up,” Sunstreaker said. “Unless you’d rather?”

Starscream barely lifted his hand to wave Sunstreaker on, and released his panel locks. He shivered and gasped as his array was touched for the first time in… far longer than he wanted to admit. Sunstreaker was done quickly, still obviously determined not to take advantage, though Starscream could see how their optics had darkened, and hear the faster cycling of their vents.

He sighed, and shut his own optics. That had been nice, and he was willing, but they were right. He was raw, and tired, and honestly would rather just be held than ‘faced.

“Come to bed, sweetspark,” Sideswipe murmured, gently tugging at Starscream’s shoulder. “It’s more comfortable that the wash room floor.”

Starscream staggered a bit as he stood, but they all made it to the berth. He was extremely surprised that they didn’t leave him for some private time of their own, but was also very grateful.

~ | ~

Starscream paced the balcony, restless and impatient.

“That isn’t going to make them decide any faster,” Sideswipe said as he came out with a small tray of fresh goodies.

Starscream huffed, and snagged one of the bright purple treats as he passed. He popped it into his mouth, and froze mid-step. “Holy Primus!”

Sideswipe grinned. “Good, huh?”

“That’s amazing!”

“Been wanting to try this for a while,” Sideswipe said, offering a treat to Sunstreaker as he showed up at his twin’s shoulder. “Ultra refined high grade. Condensed and gelled.” He picked one up for himself, looking at it critically. “I _think_ we could get drunk off these, but I’m not sure. Figure we can test that tonight either way.”

“Celebrate or commiserate,” Sunstreaker said with a nod, and took another treat.

“Exactly,” Sideswipe smiled, and held out another for Starscream.

“Only one question.”

“Wassat?” Sideswipe asked, chewing with gusto.

“Whether we invite friends over to help us celebrate Starscream’s freedom, or if we should just hoard these for ourselves.”

Starscream cocked his helm. Sunstreaker stuck another treat in his mouth, and winked at him. Starscream jumped back a step. “They called!”

“They called.”

“I’m free!”

“You’re free,” Sunstreaker chuckled, then yelped as Starscream launched forward, and swept them both into a crushing hug.

Starscream laughed until he cried, or maybe cried until he laughed. He didn’t care.

They decided that since the treats had landed on the floor, they’d just eat them all themselves, and set the party for the following night.

Over a year of recovery. Over a year of first thinking he just needed to escape, then deciding he _wanted_ a _legal_ life of his own. Over a year of working hard for it, and finally. Approval.

And they did indeed get completely smashed from the treats.

~ | ~

Optimus Prime himself had come to personally show Starscream his new loft. It was large enough for a full trine as other seekers had earned their lives back as well, and mechs were building futures for themselves. Starscream had a large balcony, and was only a few floors up from the twins. They were even on the same side of the building. Same lift.

Starscream visited a few times a week. He also dropped down to visit Thundercracker, the panes removed from Skyfire’s balcony now that they were all fairly sure Thundercracker wouldn’t just fall off in a daze.

Starscream purposely kept himself from being too close to anyone. Other seekers sought him out, but he gave them no reason to think he was interested in courting a trine. He let things cool with the twins until seeing them was more awkward than not for the lot of them.

He let months pass as he built himself a life and new reputation as a more than capable member of the scientific community.

Then he landed on Sideswipe and Sunstreaker’s balcony one night after not seeing them for weeks.

“Hey, Star. How’s it been?” Sideswipe asked, opening the door. Sunstreaker joined him, wary and silent.

Starscream reached into his subspace and pulled out two small, glittering crystals. “These aren’t traditional gifts. Then again, neither of you are seekers.”

Sideswipe took his crystal hesitantly, and Sunstreaker gave Starscream a suspicious look before taking his. “These are pretty,” Sideswipe said, still more diplomatic than his twin, who said absolutely nothing.

Starscream gave them a small smile. “I needed time. I needed to be on my own to make sure. I need to distance myself from the mechs that were my caretakers before I could come back.”

Sideswipe frowned in confusion, but Sunstreaker’s optics widened. “Primus,” he whispered.

Starscream grinned. “I needed to be sure it was really love and not some dependent attachment.”

Sideswipe’s optics went wide too, but he wasn’t fast enough. Sunstreaker launched forward, hands clamping hard to Starscream’s helm and dragging him down into a hard, fierce kiss. “Fragger,” he whispered, then bit at Starscream’s lip. “About broke our sparks!”

Starscream pulled him close, and kissed him until they were both breathless, and Sideswipe was pulling at them and whimpering.

“I had to be sure.”

“You want us to be your trine?” Sideswipe asked, and Starscream dipped his helm to kiss him too.

“No. I want you to be my bondmates.” He grinned, and offered a shrug. “Eventually. I think we need to start fresh first.”

“Thundercracker?” Sunstreaker asked, and they both tensed.

Starscream shook his helm. “He and I aren’t suited. I love him, but we were never a good match. When… _if_ he’s ever ready, he’ll find his own trine.”

The twins shared a look, and Starscream knew there was some rapid fire bond speak going on. He wasn’t kept waiting long before they both turned bright smiles on him. “So how do we formally accept your suit?”

Starscream stepped forward, walking them backwards into the lounge. “We lock the doors, shut off all comms, and spend the night getting to know one another again.”

“And by ‘know’, you mean _know_?” Sunstreaker purred.

Starscream was suddenly very glad it’d never felt right to interface before. They’d all tried, but it’d never gone past touch to overload. There had been a few times the twins hadn’t left the room to interface with each other, and had woken Starscream, but it’d never been _right_.

Starscream smiled, one hand sliding around the back of Sunstreaker’s neck. The other wrapped around Sideswipe’s back to pull him in close. “Absolutely.”

It finally felt right.

Then it felt perfect.


End file.
